


Fifth Wheel

by Duganator01



Series: RWBY Oneshots [14]
Category: RWBY
Genre: All my friends hate Atlas, Atlas sucks dude, Emotions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jaune Arc is a Good Friend, Marrow is going through it, Post-Canon, Post-Volume 8 (RWBY), Pre-Relationship, Sunsets, Yeah they're both going through it honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duganator01/pseuds/Duganator01
Summary: In my version of what happens post-Atlas, Jaune and Marrow have a talk about things that should be simple, but actually aren’t. Boats and sunsets and feelings galore, and maybe Marrow learning that it’s okay to belong to something.Or: Local boy has literally never experienced someone being nice to him outside of a professional setting before in his life, and he doesn't know how to deal with it
Relationships: Marrow Amin & Jaune Arc, Marrow Amin/Jaune Arc, Past Jaune Arc/Pyrrha Nikos - Relationship
Series: RWBY Oneshots [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558006
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Fifth Wheel

It’s been about a week. Not that long in the grand scheme of things, but after Marrow’s whole world managed to fall down in a couple of hours, a week was a long time.

A week since Ironwood was arrested. A week since Atlas fell. A week since Marrow gave up on pretending that siding with Atlas was anything short of horrible. 

He’d given up on following the orders of people who didn’t care about the  _ people _ they were supposed to be protecting. He’d given up on the people who thought that a “shoot to kill” order against a bunch of kids was an okay order to follow.

A bunch of kids, ha. What a joke.  _ He _ wasn’t much older than these so-called kids. And Marrow didn’t doubt for a second that if he’d been on the wrong side of that order, his former comrades wouldn’t have hesitated to fire on him, too.

They’d allowed those three to storm that whale. By themselves. How could he possibly claim that they were on the right side of history after Arc had to  _ beg  _ to be allowed to march straight into enemy territory? All to rescue a friend that the General had written off as “an acceptable loss.”

So he’d left. Without much fanfare, what with the whole world falling down around everyone’s ears in more ways than one. Marrow had helped them in the end, and they’d welcomed him with mostly open arms. Some animosity was expected, and he didn’t begrudge them of it for a second. 

Team RWBY, as they’d been known at Beacon, were mostly amicable but still distant. He hadn’t really been friends with them before martial law was declared, at least not past casual coworkers. So they were kind and friendly, but mostly left him alone.

However Team ALPN, as they’d dubbed themselves, added him to their little family faster than he could blink. The supposedly professionally-clinical friendship that he’d had with Arc before wasn’t nearly as professionally-clinical as he’d thought. Jaune smoothed the transition by simply accepting him without a second glance, and Marrow couldn’t be more grateful.

He did wish he could stop feeling guilty though.

Every time Oscar winced when he moved wrong and one of his still healing injuries twinged, Marrow had to fight to stop his traitorous tail from drooping. Every time he caught sight of Nora’s scars he had to hide a flinch. Every time he was in a room with Ren, Marrow froze, certain that the kid was somehow going to find out  _ more _ of the things he was trying to keep hidden.

And every time Jaune so much as glanced his way, Marrow had to avert his eyes to avoid eye contact and the damn feeling that the kid was x-raying him. His black-haired teammate was supposed to be the one who could read feelings, why was Jaune the one who he couldn’t keep eye contact with without feeling like he was reading him like an open book? 

And always it ended with a look of sort of understanding, sort of pity, and more and more of the concerned glances. With how many of them Jaune kept giving him, he probably wasn’t hiding any of it as well as he’d hoped. That kid was too much of a worrier for his own good.

A message over the faulty CCT. Some of the kid’s friends were in trouble in Vacuo. With another Relic in tow, they’d set out at once, and Marrow had been allowed to tag along. That was a week ago.

A week of traveling, of worry for the future and fear of the past, and of trying to figure out where he fit in his new “team”. A week of slowly building up the courage to just talk to these kids like the friends they clearly saw him as.

After the events of a few days ago, everyone had been needing their space. Marrow could understand that, so he’d made himself scarce in the central gathering areas. He might not have been at the Fall of Beacon, but he’d seen enough of the footage and read enough of the reports to know that this had to have opened some old wounds for the kids.

Wandering the deck of their ship had become a pastime of his. He’d never really seen much of the world outside of Atlas, and seeing the water look more green and warm than steely and cold was more odd than he could put into words.

It was like his hair had decided to become liquid, which was the weirdest thought he’d had in years. Although judging by the sort of passing comments he’d heard from Nora and Ruby, it appeared that thinking irrationally came with the territory of associating (read: being almost friends) with these kids. 

Currently, he was sitting perched on the railing of the ship, uniform jacket lying abandoned beside him. Double insulated, top of the line, silver buttons, expertly tailored. The mark of an Ace-Op. 

A  _ former _ Ace-Op. He’d defected and so no longer legally had the right to wear the uniform, but he had no other clothes. On a different note, he felt more than a little awkward wearing the uniform of the military that had knowingly abandoned the majority of its civilian population, and had instigated a retreat plan that involved  _ leaving  _ said civilian population to the proverbial dogs.

Plus it was just too freaking hot to wear right now. The ocean from Solitas to Sanus was no tundra, that was for sure.

“Mind if I join you?” came a voice to his left, shocking Marrow out of his thoughts. Only years of training kept him from pitching over the side of the ship into the frothy water below.

It was just Jaune, out of his armor for once, and looking like his smile had only just now been wiped away by Marrow probably looking like he was having a heart attack. They stared at each other for a few seconds, time ticking irrevocably onwards, Marrow’s brain simply refusing to process whatever the hell Jaune had just said.

A few more seconds passed, mostly consisting of Jaune just staring at him like he expected some kind of response. “Did you need something?” Marrow eventually asked, wincing at the edge that he hadn’t meant to put into his voice.

“Can I join you.”

“Oh. Oh yeah! Yeah sure, whatever,” Marrow replied quickly, “I mean if you want.”

“Thanks.” Jaune leant his forearms on the railing, wrists crossed, one ankle hooked around the other. He would’ve seemed perfectly casual if Marrow couldn’t see the tension in his shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes as clear as day. Kid wasn’t taking this any better than the rest of them.

The wind over the ocean ruffled his blonde hair and caught the red sash at his waist. Eyes that seemed to reflect both the sky above and the sea below stared out over the waves. Freckles that could never have been caused by the harsh cold sun of Solitas dusted their way across his cheeks and down his arms and-

-And Marrow abruptly realized he was staring and returned to gazing determinedly out over the waves.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply existing in each other’s presence. Jaune didn’t attempt to start a conversation, for which Marrow was supremely grateful. He honestly didn’t know what he would say in response even if a conversation started.

It was an awkward comfortable kind of silence. Teetering on the edge of concerning and companionable. But eventually Marrow found himself relaxing and settling back into the semi-slumped over posture he’d been in before Jaune walked up. His tail started to sway with the rhythm of the boat, but he put a stop to that as soon as it began moving.

“Ya know,” Jaune suddenly spoke, and Marrow froze. Still not taking his eyes off the ocean, he said “You don’t hafta do that.”

“Do what?” he couldn’t help asking, looking over at him in confusion.

“Your tail, you don’t have to stop it from… doing whatever it does or whatever,” Jaune explained vaguely, glancing away from the ocean to meet his gaze. Eyes too wide and too discerning, Marrow could only maintain eye contact for a second before returning his gaze to the waves.

“Yeah well, maybe I want to,” he replied, a little defensively. No, wait he wasn't getting defensive. Why would he be getting defensive? “Why do you care anyway? It’s not like it affects you.”

“That’s true,” Jaune conceded, shifting so his weight was resting on his other foot. “It just seems like it might get irritating after a while, to have to think about it all the time.” 

Marrow resolutely kept his eyes on the ocean, not acknowledging what Jaune had said. “It’s fine.” He sighed, slumping a little. “I’ve gotten used to it.” This time he couldn’t keep the tinge of dejection out of his voice.

“Hey,” Jaune said sharply all of a sudden, voice more hard than it had been before. “Just because you’ve gotten used to it doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

Marrow hesitated at that, brow furrowing in confusion. “What?” he asked, turning to face the other. “What the heck does that mean?”

Jaune’s determined expression faltered slightly and he grinned sheepishly for a moment. “Yeah, wasn’t my best line I have to admit,” he shrugged, returning his gaze to the ocean and rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Marrow didn’t turn away.

“So?” he prompted after a moment of silence.

“What?”

“What  _ did _ you mean?”

“Oh! I guess…” Jaune paused to collect his thoughts, something that Marrow had already seen do several times. Even after only a couple weeks of knowing each other, Marrow could already tell that sometimes Jaune’s mouth went faster than his brain could keep up with.

“I guess what I meant was…” He kept his eyes trained on the waves, brow furrowed in some emotion that Marrow couldn’t identify. “...Was that Atlas freaking sucks for making you feel like you had to suppress a signal of how you’re feeling, just to fit in.”

Oh. 

That was anger. 

That expression was anger, anger on  _ Marrow’s _ behalf.

Like the righteous anger Jaune had shown on the tundra when they’d refused to help the citizens of Mantle escape the river of Grimm. Like the desperate anger Jaune had expressed after nearly being denied permission to rescue Oscar. Like the raging anger Jaune had screamed at Ironwood after finding out that his friends had been injured and hunted on the General’s orders. 

All in defense of someone or something the blonde cared about. Jaune wore his emotions on his sleeve, as far as Marrow could tell. He’d never seen someone’s face be so expressive, without even a hint that Jaune was trying to hide anything he felt.

But now that anger was targeted at someone else, and Marrow was the one who was being defended. With that same fire in his eyes.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping!” Jaune started backpedaling after Marrow didn’t respond. “Jeez, I probably just shouldn't have said anything, right?”

“No!” Marrow interjected. “No. It’s fine.” He unhooked his ankles around the railing beneath him and slumped slightly. “You’re right,” Marrow admitted reluctantly, kicking his feet and staring at the water below.

“I am?” Jaune asked, sounding astounded, and even without looking, Marrow could tell that Jaune had looked away from the waves.

Yeah, he was right, and that was a whole different thing he needed to unpack at a later date. But for now… for now he needed to ask…

“Why do you even care?” Marrow refused to look away from the water now, certain that Jaune was giving him one of those wide-eyed looks that he didn’t know what to do with. “It’s  _ my _ tail after all, not yours.” My feelings, not yours. My institutionalized suppression, not yours.

“I guess I don’t really care,” Jaune admitted, and Marrow had to admit that hurt. He didn’t really know why it hurt, but it was definitely going on the pile of things  _ not _ to unpack later. If he slumped any further, he was going to fall off the damn boat, and honestly he didn’t know if that was a bad outcome. “It is  _ your  _ tail, so it’s by all rights your business.”

“I guess partially I relate a little bit, but...” he admitted and hesitated again. A little astonished that they could possibly share common ground on something like this, Marrow risked a glance at him. That same damned look of sort of understanding, sort of pity. 

“But man it’s not your tail I care about,” Jaune clarified, smiling softly at him, and Marrow didn’t know what exactly he’d done to earn that smile, “I couldn’t care less about that, I care about  _ you _ .”

Gods above what the sweet hell was Marrow supposed to do with  _ that _ ?!

“Why?” Marrow heard himself ask from wherever the shock had sent his brain.

Jaune looked honestly taken aback by that, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, eyebrows raised high enough that they were threatening to escape into his hairline. In any other situation Marrow might have laughed.

While Jaune pondered his question, Marrow’s brain struggled to process Jaune’s frankly ridiculous claim. 

They were on the same team, fine. He’d been pleased to find that they didn’t insist on keeping the kind of distant professionalism that the Ace-Ops had always enforced. But Marrow clearly didn’t fit into the dynamic the four of them had set up. 

He was the odd one out, the Atlesian defective, adopted into team ALPN because he had nowhere else to go. Academy teams were made up of four people:  _ five _ was right out. It was just logical that with them already having bonds forged from fighting for their freaking lives, that Marrow be the odd one out.

On top of all that, they’d barely known each other for a month. A month during which Marrow had actively aided the former leader of the Atlesian military stage a coup and hunt down any and all of Jaune’s friends for treason. 

And now Jaune was claiming to care about him? All with that damned smile on his face.

“Why wouldn’t I care about you?” Jaune eventually asked, not even bothering to hide the confusion in his voice. 

“Answering with a question,” Marrow noted, a ghost of a smile on his lips for the first time in this conversation that had gone nowhere  _ near _ where he thought it was going.

“Yeah shut up.” Jaune rolled his eyes. “Asking why I care is like…” he fumbled for the words for a moment. “...is like asking why the sun comes up in the morning, or why water is wet, or why the moon is shattered.”

“But you know why the moon is shattered.”

“Yes! Still shut up!” Jaune waved away his comments, the look of worried confusion finally being replaced by the sort of sad smile again. “I care because I do, okay? It’s just who I am.”

But that wasn’t the answer Marrow wanted to hear, because he needed concrete reasons and evidence. Wishy-washy “Because” wasn’t going to do, he needed to know the reasons why.

“But if it helps,” Jaune amended, and Marrow perked up unconsciously. “I care because you’re a great guy, and because quite honestly I think you need someone to just care about you without strings attached.”

That… maybe Marrow could work with that. No strings attached sounded nice.

“And I also care because you’re part of my team, and ‘round here that  _ means _ something,” Jaune said, the ‘not like in Atlas’ going unspoken. “So you’re just gonna have to deal with it, because it’s not going away any time soon!” 

His eyes were shining again. That same fire from when he’d been angry on Marrow’s behalf, angry at people who weren’t even here to see his expression. His eyes were shining, his shoulders were set defiantly, and even still leaning on the railing he looked like he was prepared to keep arguing the point until Marrow conceded. Fighting until he understood.

But he didn’t understand it. And he also didn’t understand why Jaune looked so upset. The silence stretched on. Marrow had no words, and it seemed like Jaune had nothing more to say. What was he supposed to say to all of that? What kind of response was an appropriate freaking follow up?

Marrow dropped Jaune’s gaze and went back to staring out over the waves. The sun was starting to set. Had they really been out here for that long?

“Thank you,” Marrow eventually said, voice quiet enough that he half hoped that Jaune wouldn’t hear. He may not understand it, but he could accept that for whatever reason, Jaune Arc had chosen to care about him. 

Even though that was not how it was supposed to work. And even though that was not how it was supposed to work, somehow all of Marrow’s carefully built defenses had been chipped away. X-rayed away by eyes that reflected the sky and the sea.

Out of the corner of his eye Marrow could see Jaune un-tense. “No problem,” the blonde responded, matching Marrow’s volume. Relief was coloring his words, and Marrow had to wonder why. It was like Jaune had half-expected Marrow to fight him at the end of his heartfelt speech or something.

The sun sank lower to the horizon, and the two of them lapsed back into the companionable silence that they’d started the conversation with. But now the awkwardness was gone, and Marrow frankly had no idea why. It was like some invisible wall had come down.

“I meant it ya know,” Jaune murmured, some unknown amount of time later. “What I said before, I wasn’t just saying it. I  _ meant _ it.”

Marrow glanced over at him. The wind ruffled his hair and caught his sash. Freckles danced their way across his cheeks and speckled the arms he was resting his chin on. His eyes were on the horizon, watching the sun sink into the ocean, blue eyes alight with the fire from the distant star.

He looked worried. Brows pushed together, eyes intent on the sinking sun. The bags were still under his eyes and the tension still hadn’t left his friend’s posture. Marrow realized with a start that  _ he _ was one of Jaune’s worries.

The realization didn’t send him spiraling into confusion like it might have done earlier in the day. 

“I know you meant it.” And although Marrow didn’t know what the little bundle of emotions he felt in the pit of his stomach meant, he knew with every fiber of his being that Jaune Arc meant it when he said that he cared.

And if a soft smile crossed his lips and if his tail swayed a little faster than the rhythm of the boat, who was to say?

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be something else, but it turned into this. Maybe I'll post the original thing at a later date.


End file.
